Page 53 of Heir Of Sun And Moon
“You make it too easy, Bahi.” Ruffling the hair at the crown of my head, he continues, “For such a fierce warrior, you sure do scare easily.”
“I do not expect to be ambushed in my own room,Your Majesty. It has been a while since we sparred. Perhaps you would like a reminder of just how old you are getting?” I try to remain serious, working to keep a smile off of my face, but I fail miserably. My father holds his hands up in mock surrender as he takes the chair next to mine. We sit in comfortable silence for a moment, just taking in the trees and flowers and wildlife that surround the palace.
“Whose journal are you reading today?” he asks, crossing an ankle on top of his knee. I hold up the red book, Councilman Dune’s name engraved on the front. My father knowingly chuckles while shaking his head, and no other words need to be said for him to understand that the content I’m reading is less than useful.
“While Dune’s has been unhelpful so far, I have been able to pull enough information from the other journals to start charting patterns and data on how the people’s magic is being affected,” I say, reaching over to the side table where my own journal and pen are.
Turning to the page that houses the first part of my graph, I show my father the dots that represent the Flame Ceremonies and the measure of magic at each one. Then I have small x’s marked anytime there is mention of a disturbance in magic. A key drawn to the side shares where those disruptions take place within the kingdom, as well as the severity of them and an additional timeline if this was not the first occurrence. Like with Councilman Arav’s mention of the older mages of his small town losing their ability to wield their once-strong magic. The graph is ordered by time, with the left end signifying the most recent date and then going back farther and farther as you read right. My father takes everything in, systematically reading it all before looking up to me with a broad smile.
“This is fantastic, Bahira. This sort of timeline and data analysis has never been attempted nor studied before. This very journal will be added to our archives; I have no doubt of it.”
I snort at that, but a small part of me hopes that he’s right. While I may not give a second thought about a compliment given to me for my looks, I absolutely crave being recognized for my mind. The discovery—and prompt fixing—of what’s plaguing our magic will be something written in history. Especially when that discovery will return my magic to me. It has to.
“My loves.” My mother’s voice calls out to us from my room, and my father turns to look at her, pure love and adoration in his eyes, when his smile drops and his brows furrow in concern. I whip my head around to look at my mother. Her face is pale, and her hand is shaky as she walks up and holds a sealed letter out to my father. “It’s from Nox,” she says, clasping her hands in front of her. It doesn’t stop their trembling. “It’s addressed only to you.”
It’s my turn to look confused as my father reaches out a hand for my mother and guides her to sit on his thighs. Once he is sure she is comfortable, his arm wrapped around her waist, he opens the letter and begins to read.
I watch both of their faces for signs of what the letter could say, but besides their eyes going round, there are no other hints. When they both have read it, he hands the letter to me.
Father,
If you deem it safe, I would like this letter to remain between us. I sent my last letter to appease the council so that they do not grow anxious when they don’t hear from me, but I have found the source of the magic. It is not what we were thinking it might be, but it is no less important and valuable to the safety of our kingdom.
My plans have changed, and I will be leaving soon. I will be bringing the source of the magic with me. I ask that when I arrive, it is just our family that greets me. We will need to decide together how to proceed and how to keep the source of the magic safe.
If I am able, I will send word while on the road. Otherwise, I will see you soon.
I love you all.
Nox
I reread the vague letter again, vowing to punch Nox in the face when I see him for being so crypticagain. My father pinches his lips together while laying his head against my mother’s arm.
“What do you think it could be?” I question, looking at them both.
“It could be anything. I—”
“Your Majesty!” a young mage’s voice calls out.
“Gods, how many people are going to traipse into my room today?” I mutter, catching my mothers wry smile as I turn and look back at the out-of-breath mage.
“Your Majesty, King Kai Vaea of the shifter isle has summoned you through the Mirror. He is waiting for you now.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven: Rhea
BellaandIspendthe next day reading and relaxing, which I suppose is like every other day. Despite the repetition, I can’t stop looking outside to see how close the sun is to setting, knowing Flynn’s shift will end and he will be here soon.
I choose an incredibly soft dark blue dress that is sleeveless and comes down to my ankles. Small suns with wavy flares embroidered in golden thread cover the bodice. The billowy skirt flows from the waist where additional golden thread cinches it, showing off more of my figure than I’m used to. The dress has more buttons than any of the other ones I own, and there is a small gap where I couldn’t reach them all. Twirling back and forth in front of my vanity, I stare at my reflection, noticing that my eyes look a brighter green today.
My heart skips a beat at the thought of wearing a dress like this in front of Flynn. My emotions have felt so complicated since he came into my life. Despite the fact that I’ve done everything I can to keep things locked in boxes and pushed into the darkest parts of me, some of my emotions keep rising to the surface, like oil in water. One moment I’m washed away by the tidal wave of heartbreak, and the next I’m set back up and standing at the shore again. Like now, as I wait for Flynn with happy anticipation. Maybe that’s why I feel so jumbled up inside—a war is going on with two halves of my soul. I experienced happiness with Alexi, but it was only in pockets of time where he would sneak in to visit me. There was always an underlying sense of urgency to it. With Flynn, it just feels different—new and utterly complicated.
To get my mind off of everything I’m trying not to think or feel too deeply about, I write a letter to Tienne and Erica. Besides wanting to thank them for all the gifts they’ve given me, I also know I need their help to get supplies for my attempted escape. Grabbing the ink and quill, I practice a few lines on a separate piece of paper before starting my letter.
Dear Tienne and Erica,
I wanted to thank you for the dresses! They are so lovely and much nicer than anything I’ve ever owned (as you are probably aware). I hope to be able to repay you for them someday. I also wanted to thank you for all the other gifts you’ve given me. I was hoping I could ask you both for one more favor. Is there any way a satchel and a pair of shoes could be brought to me?
I pause, lifting the quill up from the paper as I contemplate about how much I should tell them. The letter is rather vague if I just leave it at that, but I can’t word it in a way that won’t clue them in to my plan of escape. What if they were also forced to take a similar blood oath as the guards? It’s safer for both myself and them to not say too much. While I want to trust them, what if their kindness is an act?Just as Flynn’s could be.
